Bloody Hell

Chapter Two

"Do I like it? I would sell my kidney and guitar pick collection for this thing!" Tom says with a "Isn't it obvious?" look on his face, which is funny, since it is and Tord is only acting oblivious for fun.

"I'm glad you like it." Tord keeps his eyes on the road and Tom leans back on his seat as he stares at him with a new look of interest; he knew this guy was interesting, but he wasn't expecting him to be this interesting.

"Where are you from? Your accent sounds kinda... Russian?" Tom says and Tord abruptly laughs, which makes the passenger flinch from the sudden reaction and furrow his eyebrows a bit. "Hey! It's a serious question!"

"No no," Tord says with a few smaller laughs as he wipes a tear from his eye. "It's just that I get that question a lot from Americans, but I never thought I'd get it from another European," The tall male looks toward him with his golden eyes almost glowing in the dark as he grins and says, "But to answer your question, I'm Norwegian. I lived in Norway for many years before moving here; I wanted to meet more people and see new things. I'm sure you could understand."

Tom knows all too well how hard he can relate to that last statement. He's lived with Edd and Matt for god knows how long now, and he'd really like to go to more places; but if you saw the way they said goodbye to him earlier, then you'd realize how much they really want him there, and Tom doesn't have the heart to say he's leaving for a unknown amount of time or worse would be forever. He decides it's easier to just keep things simple and stay in place, at least until he gets married and has a real reason for leaving.

The black eyed male looks back at the dark road and asks, "You've had quite a life, even though you're this young... Actually, how old are you?" Tom looks back at him, and sees Tord's back to safely looking at the road with a little smile.

"Well, I like to say I'm 25, so I'm 25," Tord replies very simply; the normal person might question his answer, but Tom doesn't care as long as he isn't an old guy trying to probe him.

"Cool by me, still, how could you do so much at 25?" Tom asks as he looks out the window.

"So much, as in?" Tord asks with an amused smile, he's having a more fun time talking than he thought he might. "I don't think I've said too much about myself, have I?"

Tom then begins to think, it's true that he kind of assumed Tord has done a lot. How could you not assume? Formal wear in public, hot car, lots of money, probably got a mansion; what's there to make you think otherwise? Of course he could've just been born in a rich household, but there's just something about him that says otherwise...

"I guess that's true," Tord looks toward Tom. "but you just have that aura that makes people think, "Damn, this guy is experienced" without any evidence to prove it. I mean, it convinced me without thinking, and I'm a huge skeptic."

Tord looks back toward the road and thinks, "Well, I guess it's true... I mean, I have seen and done a lot of things in my life; but still, out of all the things I know about myself, I never considered myself experienced. Maybe I just don't feel that way because I've never seen myself as old even after living so long. It's such a simple concept, but it's still a realization that I feel like I should've known many years ago."

After around 28 minutes of more driving, they arrive at the fancy winery. It's a little past a large neighborhood where only high class citizens and their household servants live, and they're not all just humans either.

"I feel like I should've worn better clothes, this place looks too nice for me," Tom says and looks down at his hoodie that's years old now and ripped jeans that were obviously 50% off at Martwal. "I'm screwed."